


For Love and Justice

by RosaF7



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Angst, F/F, Outer Senshi Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6140563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaF7/pseuds/RosaF7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"For love and justice? Somehow it doesn’t sit quite right with me anymore. Somehow I can no longer believe in a future in which one girl has to be sacrificed for another, simply because she wasn’t born a princess.”</p>
<p>Michiru Kaioh is in prison for a crime she did commit. But she doesn't regret it. </p>
<p>Fic written for the 2015 End of Year HaruMichi Fic Party. Prompt: “There, in her home, she forgot the meaning of justice.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Love and Justice

“Hey, Kaioh!”

Michiru ignored the woman, as she had done for the last few days. The woman was in fact handsome, but she was also annoyingly persistent, and in any case, Michiru was a married woman. She smiled to herself at the thought of Haruka, at the thought of Haruka covering her in soft kisses, at the thought of Haruka laughing at some bad joke she’d made herself, at the thought of Haruka falling asleep, her head on her lap, on the couch - at the thought of –at the thought of Haruka sobbing in Setsuna’s arms as the police had taken her away. Her smile disappeared.

Just in time, really, because the annoyingly persistent woman was now before her, blocking her path to the bathrooms. Michiru sighed, and went to move past her, not at all surprised when the woman pushed her back against the wall with one arm.

“Look here, princess. Not sure how you think this works, but ignoring me isn’t going to get you anywhere,” She stopped for a moment, to let her eyes rove over Michiru. “We could have a thing here. You let me look after you, let me keep you safe.”

Michiru widened her eyes, blinked slowly up at her. “That sounds a little unequal. What, may I ask, is it that you gain from this arrangement?”

The woman grinned. “I can think of a thing or two.”

“I see,” Michiru said. “And do you mind telling me again, what exactly I might gain from this?”

“You’re a little slow,” The woman said, as she pressed closer against her. “Prison’s a tough place, princess. I’ve been here a while. I know my shit. I’ll keep you safe.”

Michiru frowned for a moment, as if she were considering it. Then she took her arm, which was pressed against her, twisted it, and pressed the woman back against the wall, until she cried out in pain. It was easy. She held her there for a moment longer, and the woman swore at her.

“Thank you for the offer. However, I do not believe it will be necessary,” Michiru said sweetly, as she let go of her, and walked away without a backward glance.

-

Michiru had never intended to love anyone. She had never loved her parents and she could say with certainty that they had never really loved her. But this was not a tale of woe, as this had never bothered her.

She and her parents had had an unspoken arrangement and it had suited her. They had their own lives and their own careers. They had little time for her, but they provided her with the money and means to pursue her own interests. Even as a child, she had received violin lessons from one of Japan’s finest violinists and attended art classes in Tokyo’s most exclusive art school. In return, she was expected to excel, to be someone they could gush about to their friends and business associates. For Michiru, that was easy. By her early teens she was already playing before large audiences, having her art shown in galleries and being hailed as a young creative genius by the society papers. They had their arrangement, and it worked, and it had little to do with love.

Sometimes, one of the girls she was sleeping with would speak to her about love. They’d ask her, _do you love me_ , as she fucked them in the bathroom of the music hall, or in the spare bedroom of their parent’s holiday home, or in a gallery backroom at one of her showings.

She always ignored the question. Love was unnecessary. She had her music and her art and that was enough.

Until Haruka.

Sailor Uranus had appeared in her dreams before she appeared in her life. The idea of Sailor Uranus had initially been something to cling onto when the horror of her destiny as Sailor Neptune hit her too hard. Unlike the other Senshi, who had been awakened to protect the world for love and justice, she had been awakened with a painful choice. Kill three innocents human beings with pure hearts, or let the world burn. It was a bitter destiny, and a lonely one. Sailor Uranus, her destined partner, had been the only glimmer of hope for her. And so, on the basis of only a few hazy visions, Michiru had, for the first time, fallen in love.

And yet, none of that feeling, none of that intensity, not a moment of it compared to what had taken over her when she had actually grown to know Haruka. When she had come to know the exact sound of Haruka’s laughter, the way Haruka sang ever so badly in the shower, the way she couldn’t eat without leaving a trail of crumbs about her, the way her cheeks turned bright pink when she teased her, the way she glared furiously at any other woman who dared to look at her love, the way her stomach grumbled whenever she was hungry (which was often), the way she refused to throw away old clothes, wearing them until sometimes it seemed that they had more holes than actual fabric, all these things, all these little and big things. Every day, it seemed that her love for her just grew and grew, it was exponential in nature, it was everything she had heard of it, but _more_ , and it was necessary, it was vital, it was essential.

Michiru had never cared for love. But after Haruka, Michiru would have given it all up for love. No, not quite.

Michiru would have given it all up for Haruka.

-

“I miss you.”

She whispered the words, and her voice was hoarse. It was evident she had been crying. Her eyes were red, her lips dry and her skin pale. She looked at Michiru with such sadness in her eyes, and Michiru wanted so desperately to reach out, to hold her, to kiss her gently, to reassure her that everything would turn out well.

But she couldn’t. The glass between them blocked any physical contact, and she wasn’t sure, really, that everything would turn out well.

Instead, she placed her palm against the glass pane, and watched as Haruka slowly placed her hand against hers, on the other side.

“I miss you too, my love.”

For a while they just sat in that position, their hands almost but not touching. Then Haruka took a shaky breath. “I tried to speak to your lawyer this morning. She wouldn’t really tell me much, Michiru, she’s being really secretive, she’ll only talk to your parents and –”

“Haruka, it’s ok,” Michiru interrupted. “I’ll speak to her later about my case. _You’re here_. I want to know about you, I want to hold – I want to hear you….just….I miss you so much, Haruka.”

Haruka’s eyes watered, and she wiped away the tears with the sleeve of her jumper. “Michiru, I wanted to……I wanted….Michiru…..I’m trying. I’m trying to keep on top of things….work has given me a couple of weeks off, and the girls come over sometimes and –” She stopped abruptly, realising she had said something she shouldn’t have.

"The girls come over?" Michiru slowly and deliberately lowered her hand. “I see.”

“Michiru, it’s not that –Michiru I love you and I’d support you always, always but…..”

Michiru was silent.

“They’re hurting too. We all are. We _all_ lost.”

“That is one way of looking at the matter. However, the way in which I see it is that –”

“Please, Michiru, don’t. Please, I love you and I’ll always stand by your side, no matter what, Michiru, I’d go to hell just to be with you, but I can’t hear it again. I _can’t_.” Her eyes were pained and they both remembered the first lines Michiru had said afterwards.

_I don’t regret it. She deserved it._

Michiru took a deep breath, and placed her hand against the pane again. Haruka gave her a shaky smile, and did the same.

“And Setsuna? Where is she today?”

“She’s outside. She would have come….she wants to see you. They don’t allow people who aren’t officially recognised as family members to visit…. Michiru, we talked about this.”

“She _is_ family.”

“I know. I know. But the prisons don’t recognise her.”

“I’ll write to her. Today. I miss her, Haruka. Please let her know.”

“I will.”

The next question Michiru didn’t really want to ask, but she had to know. “Does she…..Haruka, does Setsuna…..does she…..hate….”

She couldn’t find the words, but Haruka answered anyway. “No. She loves you. Setsuna….she……I think she understands….. I think she understands…..,” Haruka took another breath, and then glanced away for a moment. “Perhaps better than anyone else.”

-

After they were together, they were _always_ together. It was Michiru and Haruka. Haruka and Michiru. Always. Always together, always and forever.

Michiru had understood that. Understood that she had fallen and that everything had changed and that she would never again live another moment without Haruka. She understood that she couldn’t live life as she had before. It wasn’t just her anymore. It was her and Haruka.

Just the two of them. They had each other, and they loved each other, and it was more than enough.

She had never intended to love anyone else.

But they had demanded it. Not knowingly, no. They were the people least likely to make such demands. Setsuna, so striking, but always trying to fade into the background. Watching quietly but never really joining in. Loving deeply but never believing herself worthy of love.

And Hotaru. Little Hotaru. Shy and sweet, anxious with new people, so sure that people would hate her. Hotaru, who was so sure she was bad, when she was probably the only one who was truly good.

They had become a family more out of necessity than anything. Hotaru’s father had died and her mother was long gone. Hotaru, freed from the power of Mistress 9, had suddenly become a newborn again, a newborn without anyone to care for her. The eldest of the Senshi had decided that they would care for their fellow Outer Senshi, and…..it was not that Michiru thought she wouldn’t care, but she was surprised by just how much she came to care.

Soon, the moments she cherished most in life were the ones in which they were all gathered together, when she was leaning against Haruka watching the television with Hotaru on her lap and Setsuna sitting and reading by their side. When they had a lazy Sunday morning and they all snuggled together in Haruka and Michiru’s king size bed. When Setsuna was trying to teach Hotaru how to bake, and Haruka sat on the kitchen stool, stealing all the extra cookies she could while Michiru laughed at her. When Hotaru came home after school and read them something she had written, with all three parents listening carefully. When she was teaching Hotaru how to swim and Setsuna and Haruka watched anxiously from the side of the pool. When Setsuna told Hotaru amazing bed time stories about the past and her and Haruka snuck in so they could listen too.

This kind of love was different, but just as powerful, as her love for Haruka. She had never had this growing up. She had never much cared. And still, now, her own past never really bothered her. But Hotaru would have this, Hotaru would have them, and she would grow up so loved, she would always be so very loved.

And so, it wasn’t just her and Haruka anymore. It was her and Haruka and Setsuna and Hotaru.

Every day, they gave her such joys as Michiru had never thought possible.

They belonged to each other. They were family.

Hers to love and hers to protect.

-

The funeral was small. She had not been popular at school, she had not had many friends. Her biological father and mother were dead. They had written to her grandparents, on both sides, but none of them had attended. There were two teachers from her school, a few of their neighbours, and them. The Senshi. That was all.

Others might have seen that as sad but Michiru would have rather that even they weren’t there. They didn’t know her, they didn’t really understand her, they couldn’t possibly understand the enormity of what had occurred.

Her daughter was dead.

Her daughter was dead.

_Her daughter was dead_.

But she acknowledged them politely, and solemnly watched as the service was performed. Haruka wept openly and loudly, barely able to stand. Setsuna made no noise, but tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. They all mourned, but Chibiusa mourned loudest of all, her small fists pounding against the ground, her cries almost drowning out the chanting of the priest.

Michiru hated her, then, in that moment. Hated her for being so full of life when her own daughter was dead.

Michiru watched as Usagi went to Chibiusa, pulled her into her arms, and held her, tightly, until her tears subsided, just a little. She forced herself to look away.

She would never hold her daughter again.

The funeral was followed by the cremation, and it was too short, the cremation. Too short, and too early. She was still a child. She _had_ still been a child.

Only twelve. Twelve.

They gathered in their house afterwards. Haruka was still sobbing noisily and Michiru held her for a while, but then let Minako and Makoto tend to her. Minako spoke softly to Haruka, and Makoto tried to feed her. Small comforts, but she left them to it. Setsuna was staring out of the window, lost in a world of her own. Ami sat by her, close, but not too close.

Michiru went upstairs. She sat by her dresser and picked up the Deep Aqua Mirror. She stared for a moment at the pale woman in the mirror. Her eyes were empty. She was a Sailor Senshi. Loss was never too far. But this time, it had come too soon.

A part of her had known, really, that she would follow her. Michiru had been cold to her, ever since Hotaru’s death. She would know something was wrong. And it was in her nature, to try and make up, to offer explanations, to want everything to be alright. Except this time it wasn’t and it never would be.

She knocked briefly on the door, but when there was no response she let herself in. “Michiru….I just….I’m so sorry, Michiru. She was so…..she was so sweet. She and Chibiusa, they had so much fun together and now-”

“Now Hotaru is dead and Chibiusa is still alive.”

“Oh Michiru, that’s –that’s true but -”

Michiru stood and faced her Princess. “Or let me phrase that differently. Hotaru died so that Chibiusa could live.”

Usagi paled, and stared at Michiru. “Michiru -I couldn’t, Michiru! I couldn’t bring her back. I wanted to. I tried to. I tried as much as I could, Michiru –”

“It was too late, then. Too late. You should never have used her to protect Chibiusa like that. It was too dangerous a position. She was too young. She was not the right choice.”

“We had no choice! You and Uranus weren’t back, Jupiter was unconscious, Mercury was injured badly, someone –Chibiusa was…. -someone had to protect her. Michiru, we didn’t want to lose her!”

“But you did. And this is why. We go first. As the Outer Senshi we are expendable. We are the first line of defence. Then there’s the Inner Senshi. They go next. They’ll do whatever they need to do, including dying, to protect you. You and Chibiusa. Our _princesses_.”

“I…”

Michiru moved closer to Usagi, smiled at her. “That is how it works, is it not, Usagi? And we do this, we all follow this, because we believe that this is how we bring about Crystal Tokyo. But why?”

“Because…..”

“For love and justice?” Michiru laughed, and there was something in her eyes in that moment that made Usagi take a step back. Usagi blinked back tears. “Somehow it doesn’t sit quite right with me anymore. Somehow I can no longer believe in a future in which one girl has to be sacrificed for another, simply because she wasn’t born a princess.”

“Hotaru…Hotaru and Chibiusa were friends, Michiru, the best of friends. Hotaru loved Chibiusa -”

“And that makes her death more acceptable?”

“Oh Michiru, I don’t ever want anyone to be sacrificed, ever!”

“But we are, Usagi. We _are_. How many times have we all died for you? Did you think you would always be able to bring us back? And it’s easy, is it not, for you to say those words? It is easy for you to believe in bigger, better things, when it’s always us who have to do the difficult work for you.”

Usagi was crying now, and she fell to the floor, covered her eyes with her hands.

“I will never forgive myself for killing Setsuna and Hotaru to try and defeat Galaxia. _Never_. Did you know that Usagi? Did you know that Haruka feels the same? No, because you never have to deal with that. You never have to do the killing, and most of the time, thanks to your Senshi, you manage to avoid being killed. No. Instead, you have a much nicer role. You give speeches about love and justice and peace. You talk about loving everyone and saving everyone. You get to be the hero, you get to keep your hands clean,” She paused for a moment, and gazed briefly at the portrait of her family that sat on her dresser. Setsuna was smiling, Haruka was making a face and Hotaru, her mouth wide, was laughing at her papa. Michiru had taken the photo only two months ago, at their anniversary dinner. She hadn’t know then. She hadn’t known that her daughter would soon be gone. “You get to _live_.” 

“I’m so sorry Michiru, I’m so sorry. I wish I could change it…I do.”

“And yet, you won’t. Tomorrow we will all do as we have always done. We will do all we can to protect you. We will throw away our lives for yours. I have lost my only child so that yours could live. And I could lose Setsuna and Haruka. And if we have children in the future? Do we leave them all so that we can fight for you? Do we risk dying, leaving them without parents? Why are we risking so much for Crystal Tokyo, Usagi, when all it appears to be is a continuation of the same? Where does this end, Usagi? When does it end? Or does it not matter, because the only lives that matter are yours and your own?”

Usagi didn’t respond, she was still sobbing.

“My daughter is dead, Usagi. Dead because she had to protect your daughter.”

Usagi sniffed, and then stared up at Michiru, her eyes red. “I’m so sorry, Michiru. I wish…I wish it could be different.”

Michiru smiled softly. “It _can_ be.”

And there, in her home, she forgot the meaning of justice. Or maybe, she remembered its true meaning. Perhaps she had never really believed in it anyway. Perhaps what justice is to one is tragedy for another.

Those thoughts might have kept another person up at night, might have kept them wondering.

But Michiru Kaioh?

She never regretted it.


End file.
